


where the stars rise up

by smolsarcasticraspberry



Series: Fulcrumverse Alternative Canon [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternative Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, fulcrumverse, i might not have physically written the happy ending yet but it does exist, prompt fills, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolsarcasticraspberry/pseuds/smolsarcasticraspberry
Summary: a collection of short one-shots covering events in the {fulcrumverse alternative canon}. some of these are prompt fills from tumblr, reposted here for convenience.set in a canon-divergent S3-6, Shiro has returned from the astral plane, and his quintessence is linked to Allura's. neither of them remember events on the astral plane, and they both struggle to deal with feeling each other's emotions. into this, the charismatic Prince Torin approaches the Voltron Coalition, offering an alliance and a way to work with the Galra Empire to secure peace.





	1. things you said with too many miles between us

**Author's Note:**

> **a note on characters:** there is no Lotor in fulcrumverse, because the character is too inconsistent and loaded at this point for me to want to transport him over. instead, he’s replaced by a character called Prince Torin, who fulfils a similar narrative role but is a different type of personality and has a very different arc.

The way the comms work always impresses him. On the Kerberos mission they dealt with a comm delay that stretched into the hours, so that Shiro always felt cut adrift; like an ancient mariner lost at sea. But the Castle has something approaching an ansible system, and the message relays are almost instantaneous. He has to take Black a long, long way from the Castle before any communication delay becomes actually noticeable.

But right now, today, he's lightyears out, on the other side of a wormhole, checking in on an abandoned base for any signs of life. Allura didn't come with him for this. The mission wasn't deemed urgent enough - the base is small, scans showed nothing in the wider system, and he's just here to give it a once-over and make a tactical assessment of the location. He brought Hunk in Yellow instead, and a couple of scientists to check the base's systems.

He takes Black and runs laps of the moon where the installation is based; sweeping up and out in a wide orbit, scanning the whole system with Black's sensors and his own quintessence, extended out into the void. He's getting better at that particular trick, but today he doesn't sense anything.

The comm flickers, and the screen pops up. The display at the top blinks amber at him: a delay. They really are far from home. It's the Castle, and Allura's personal code blinks at him from the HUD.

"Go ahead," he says.

He counts the seconds before his response travels there and back, and then the screen flickers and Allura's face appears.

"Shiro," she says. "How's the base?"

This far out, he can't sense her. Up close, he catches her emotions as they ripple out through her quintessence. Ever since she carried his soul in her body and brought him out of the astral plane, they've stayed… connected. But only when they're physically close enough for their energy to resonate. Out here, he's too far away from her to share her feelings.

"It looks promising," he says. "Still in good condition, but it'll need some work. But I think the locations a good one. Over."

He sits and waits; watches Allura's face on the screen. Her hair is in a braid down one side of her face, and it looks pretty, but he can never figure out how to tell her that.

"That's good," Allura replies eventually. "I just wanted to run something by you, if that's alright?"

Her fingers thread through the ends of her hair, and her brows pull together just a little - just the tiniest, subtlest hint of apprehension. Why is she calling him long-distance for something they could discuss when he gets back?

"Sure, go ahead," he says. Black rounds the moon, and Shiro wheels the Lion to a halt and hangs there, looking down at the base and the gas giant swirling peacefully behind it.

"Prince Torin asked me to accompany him to a Galra-occupied world," Allura says. She looks off-screen as she says it, and Shiro's not sure if she's looking at the Prince or just… away from him. Maybe she just can't meet his gaze right now. The thought stings more than it should.

"He wants to give me the tour," she goes on. "He thinks this world could serve as a model for the reformed Empire. I want to see what he's talking about, and what it's like. If we can find a way to change things for the Empire's colonies, it gives us an avenue to stop the war."

Shiro fights to keep the scowl off his face. He disagrees, and Allura knows that. Maybe that's why she's talking to him about it over the comms, and not face-to-face.

"Is this safe?" Shiro asks. "I don't like the risks involved with something like this."

"There's no risk," Allura says. "I'll be with Torin the whole time. I trust him, Shiro. He means well, and he has some ideas that could help us. I think it's a good idea to go and see this settlement."

"Then why are you asking me?"

"Because I value your opinion."

He stares at her face on the screen, and tries to read her expression: the softness in her eyes, the crease in her brow, the tightness around her mouth. They're going to argue about this again, and Shiro hates it. Allura hates it too; he can tell how much it upsets her whenever they disagree and butt heads, because her quintessence gets churned up and messy.

"You know I don't trust Torin." Shiro tries to keep his voice even and matter-of-fact. "And no matter how nice this colony is, it's still an occupied territory. We should be focusing on dismantling the Empire, not giving it a make-over."

He sits and waits for her reply. The seconds tick by, and the starlight glitters outside, and he waits for her disagreement and dissent. Why can't they get on the same page anymore? Ever since Prince Torin turned up - spoiled son of the Emperor, supposed champion of reform and advocate for the masses - it's like they can't agree on anything anymore.

"We need to be pragmatic about this," Allura says, and Shiro hears the tension in her voice. Maybe that's why she did this over the comms - so he can't sense her annoyance and disappointment through the link they share. But he picks up on it, just the same. He's too good at reading her.

"Torin is offering us a solution, and I want to pursue it. If it doesn't work out, we'll consider other options - but we shouldn't rule it out."

"I don't think it's a solution at all," Shiro says. "I think it's just more imperial propaganda."

She snaps. He watches it on her face - the delayed reaction to his words as the comm relay buffers on her end. She frowns, and huffs, and crosses her arms.

"I don't understand why you insist on thinking the worst of Prince Torin." Her tone is harsh and imperious; her words clipped and short. "He's trying to help us. I'm going with him because he's giving us a way to end the war, and I want to at least give him the benefit of the doubt."

"You're going with him because you like him," Shiro says. He doesn't mean to. He's done his best to keep those words locked away inside, because they reek of jealousy and bitterness. But it's true. She likes him. He's charming and handsome and knows all the right words to say, and whenever they're together Shiro senses the thrill of excitement that Allura feels whenever Torin smiles at her.

She used to feel that way about _him_. Shiro used to be able to make her heart skip just by smiling at her. He knows that, because he felt it in her quintessence whenever they got close. But now all they do is argue, and Torin has swooped in with his own smiles and pleasantries, and Shiro is left on the side lines.

"You're right," Allura says. "I _do_ like him. But that's not why I'm going. This isn't a pleasure trip. It makes sense for our mission. I'm capable of doing my job without getting distracted by my feelings."

"And you think I'm not?" Shiro asks, because that last comment came with hidden barbs echoing between the words.

"I think you're being petty and unreasonable," Allura snaps. "You don't like Prince Torin for personal reasons, and you're letting that cloud your judgment."

Shiro bites his lip and looks away from her, before he says something else he'll regret. It's not true. He has _plenty_ of reasons to dislike Prince Torin, such as his questionable politics and superficial charm and handwaving of imperial atrocities. But beneath all that is an undercurrent of petty jealousy that he can't shake. Because Allura likes Torin. Allura wants to spend time with him. Allura smiles at him and tucks her hair behind her ears and gets self-conscious around him, and it rips Shiro's heart out of his chest every time he sees it.

But he doesn't just see it. He feels it, too; through the bond they share, through the inextricable linking of their quintessence. Their souls were bound together, somehow, in that strange glittering darkness of the astral plane that he doesn't truly remember. Their souls are connected, but it's still not enough. They still can't agree, or find common ground.

"My judgement is fine," Shiro says. "I'm just being cautious. Our mission is to end the Galra Empire, not help them extend it."

"Our mission is to bring peace," Allura says coolly.

Shiro stares at her. Maybe it's best they're not close enough to feel each other's emotions, because he's a storm of pain and bitterness and childish envy right now, and he hates it, and he hates that he doesn't know how to make it stop.

"Go if you want," he says eventually. "But be careful."

"I'm always careful."

"You can like him if you want to," Shiro adds, his voice so quiet it barely carries. Out here, he can say that, because Allura won't feel the way his energy spikes and dips; she won't sense the wave of regret and sadness that comes with it.

"He's a good man, Shiro," Allura says. "And he's trying to help us. I'm sorry you can't see that."

She hesitates, as if she means to say something more. Then her face settles into the neutral expression of a leader doing their job and putting personal feelings aside.

"Complete the base scans. I'll let you know when I'm ready to wormhole you back."

The screen goes blank, and Shiro stares at the blinking display where her face used to be.

Why did their energy have to merge together? Why did their souls have to link? It's painful enough to watch her fall for someone else; it's infinitely worse to catch the echo of every joyful smile and self-conscious blush, writ large and bright in the quintessence that ripples out of her. If they were together, it would be glorious and beautiful and breath-taking. But they're not, and so when her happiness surges through him, it leaves a thousand tiny pinpricks in its wake. When the thrill of being wanted makes her energy dance and shimmer, it burns through Shiro's soul like a merciless fire.

They are so close their souls occupy the same space; and yet at the same time, the distance between them is greater than ever. He doesn't know how it happened, only that it crushes his heart until he aches with the weight of it.

He feels everything she's feeling. But he can't feel his way back to her.


	2. things you said that i wish you hadn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as Allura's budding relationship with Prince Torin escalates, it creates tension between Allura and Shiro. angsty, because what else am i supposed to do with a prompt like "things you said that i wish you hadn't"??

In the end, Allura does not have the courage to speak to Shiro face to face about her latest plan. She writes it all in a memo, and forwards it to him, along with Prince Torin's original proposal letter. It's an act of cowardice, and she hates herself for it, but… she's been arguing with Shiro so much these last few months that she just wants to avoid another confrontation. So she sends it to him instead, and lets him read it on his own time.

He turns up at her office half an hour later, and stands in the doorway, arms folded, leaning on the door frame. She looks up at him from her desk, and dares him to say something. Which he does.

"A political marriage? Really?"

Allura sighs, and closes her screens so that she can fold her hands together and give Shiro her full attention. He scowls at her, and she can sense how upset he is. The bond between their souls hasn't weakened, no matter how much they've been fighting, and it's both terrifying and frustrating. She wants to just get through this without feeling his pain wash over her in waves.

"It makes sense for our Alliance, and for the Empire," Allura says evenly. "I think we should consider it as an option."

"And this is how you were gonna tell me?" Shiro asks. He holds up the data tab, and strides across her office to drop it on her desk. It's his work tab - the one he uses when he's roaming around the Castle, taking care of things for her. The message she sent blinks up at her from the screen.

He's angry. She senses it, because they're so physically close to each other that she can't block the connection between their quintessence. Seething fury boils off him, rippling down the link between them, but beneath it she can tell he's upset. They were supposed to be closer than this.

"I wanted to give you time to read it over and consider it," Allura says. It's partly true. But mostly she just didn't want to feel his shock and heartache land in her chest like a blaster bolt. Every time she goes anywhere with Prince Torin, she feels the distant ache from Shiro's end of their bond. Every time she speaks to Torin, or smiles at him, or enjoys his presence - she feels Shiro, and how much it hurts him. And it would be easier to rise above it if Shiro wasn't so _kind_ about it. She is breaking his heart, but he tries so hard to hide it; to push down his own pain and jealousy and focus on other things, so that she won't know how deep the wound goes. He has said nothing about it - nothing at all.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Shiro says.

Allura sighs. "Can you put aside your personal dislike of Torin and see this as a political choice?"

"I am!" he protests. "It still doesn't make any sense."

She sits back in her chair and studies his face. He's composed, despite the heat of his words; he's doing his best to keep the pain in check for her sake. That stings, in its own way. They used to be so open with each other. He used to have no reason to hold things back. And now they're at an impossible distance - still connected, but drifting apart nevertheless.

"The surviving Alteans are loyal to the Voltron Alliance," Allura states. "And there are plenty of Galra within the Empire who are loyal to Torin. A political marriage between the two of us would bring those forces together. It's an old-fashioned solution, but one that would appeal to traditionalists and romantics alike."

It comes out sounding like a well-polished speech, but that's because Allura has been practising how to sell this idea ever since Torin first suggested it. It was during one of their dinners together, when Torin looked endearingly nervous as he suggested that maybe - perhaps - if she didn't mind - they could end the hostilities by getting married. His argument was simple: bring their two peoples together, symbolically united, and from that starting point, forge a new era of universal peace.

"That's not peace," Shiro says, and it rouses her from her thoughts. "That's assimilation. The Empire has more power than we do. If we merge with them, they neutralise us as a threat, and we make ourselves powerless. It's not a good idea."

"We wouldn't be powerless," Allura insists. "I would be Prince Torin's spouse. One of the highest ranking nobles in the Empire. I would be able to drive change from within."

Shiro shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling. He crosses his arms again - and usually that means he's relaxed and feeling confident, but nowadays he does it when he's stressed, and when they're fighting. His discomfort and unease ripples through to Allura, and she pushes back against that with calm and assurance. Their energies meet and resonate, and Shiro looks back at her, his brows creased into a frown.

"This isn't a good idea, Allura," he mutters.

"I disagree," she says simply. "I think we can end the war, and spare any further bloodshed."

And that's what she wants, more than anything. This war has been nothing but exhausting, ever since she woke up from a 10,000-year slumber and found herself alone and adrift, burdened with an impossible task. She's tired of fighting, and she's tired of losing people. She wants it to be _over_. And Torin is giving her that way out: a simple, elegant solution to the violence.

Shiro is wrong. He's _wrong_ , and he's just paranoid, or over-cautious. Or jealous or… or _something_. But she doesn't have to listen to him, no matter how calmly he states his case; no matter how much sense he makes. Because he doesn't get it. He can't understand the weight of being a leader, like Torin does, and if she just… if she just marries Torin this can all be _over_. It can end, and she can rest. Just rest. She deserves that much, surely. After everything.

"I think you're looking for an easy way out," Shiro says, and Allura clenches her fists on the table. She's _not_. That's not what this is.

"It's not up to you," she says, and the words come out like shards of ice, and Shiro winces.

"Then why did you ask me?" he demands, and his words come back to her like barbs that stab into her flesh.

He's hurting, and angry, and it all roils beneath that carefully calm surface - pushed down, buried deep, hidden in the dark where Allura can't see it. Why _did_ she ask him? The decision is hers to make, not his. But she asked him anyway, and his annoyance isn't what she wanted to hear.

"I was hoping you'd support me, so that I can convince the others," she says coldly. "I know this won't be a popular suggestion. I need you to back me up on this."

"You want me to tell you it's okay to marry this guy?" Shiro asks. "You want my permission to be some bride of the Empire?"

"I don't need your permission for anything."

Shiro holds her gaze, and he's like the molten core of a planet: fury and pain folding over each other, impossibly hot, buried beneath miles of calm stone that keeps it locked away. Only a few cracks show in the surface; the twitch of a muscle in his jaw, and the whitening of his knuckles as he clenches his hand into a fist. Allura sits and waits for the eruption - for the fire to burst forth and spill out and consume her, to burn her up, so that she will feel the heat of his heartbreak and know that it's real.

But it doesn't come. He pushes it down, with superhuman willpower, and simply nods.

"Fine," he says. "Marry him if you want. Just tell me what you need from me."

Her heart turns to ice, so fragile that she fears it will shatter with every heartbeat. What did she really expect? She asked for his support, and he's giving it. The ice is better than the fire, surely. Her veins run chill, and she folds her hands together and wills them to stop shaking.

"I will need your support when I tell the others," she says. "That's all, for now."

"Fine." He nods, and picks up his tablet, and walks out.

Allura watches him go, and sags back in her chair. She's empty inside; hollowed out, frozen over, as fragile as carved crystal. She should feel relieved, but there's nothing left of her that can feel anything.

Why did she ask him for his opinion, if she meant to go ahead with it anyway? The whole exercise was pointless. She should have just informed him of the choice and left it at that.

But she wanted the fire. The realisation spills into her, filling up the empty spaces in her soul, spreading through her veins like a poison she cannot resist. She wanted him to yell at her, to tell her he won't let her do this; she wanted him to beg her not to go through with it. She wanted to break him open and see the molten core of him - the heat and the pain and the longing he pushes down deep inside. She wanted to see what he keeps hidden, and know that it's real.

She wanted the fire. And all she got was ice.


	3. (you cut me open) and i keep bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set after Allura has agreed to the marriage with Torin - based on the prompt "things you said at 1am" which of course i turned into angst and then made super-long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've rearranged the order of the chapters a bit here, because i wanted to insert this ficlet in front of 'spare the dying' to try to keep this piece in roughly chronological order. that's made harder by the fact that i'm not actually writing it in chronological order but uuuhhhhhh we'll just play that by ear.

It's not that he doesn't _like_ Prince Torin. That would be almost impossible. The man is pathologically likeable. He's charming and amiable, and makes an effort to be friendly with everyone, which almost makes the entire situation worse. Because Shiro can see exactly why Allura likes him so much. He's _easy_. He doesn't have any obvious scars - physical or mental - and he doesn't come encumbered with endless baggage and anxiety. On the face of it, he's very straightforward: a Prince of the Empire, but one who believes in justice and reform; a charmer, but a genuine one who reaches out to people with sincerity.

If his politics weren't so deeply flawed, Shiro might be crushing on the man himself. But he can't see past the Prince's defence of the Empire. Maybe it's because the wounds of imperial violence are still too fresh; the scars still pink and ugly on his body. Maybe it's the history of empire on Earth that turns him cold to the idea that any empire, ever, can be a force for peace and fairness. Prince Torin talks about ruling with compassion and kindness, and empowering the common people, and Shiro nods and goes along with it for Allura's sake - but then he goes back to his room and takes off his prosthetic and rubs the aching stump of the arm the Galra Empire took from him. He falls asleep and dreams of the Galra gladiator arena, and the servants of the Empire who looked down on him as he faced death for their amusement.

He can't go along with it. He just can't.

Usually, when Allura and Torin get to talking about reform of the Empire, Shiro excuses himself and goes to do something else - like punch a bag until it breaks, or fly Black in laps around the Castle and let her power burn through his frustration and sorrow. He doesn't want to sit there and watch Allura smile at Torin, or listen to her agree with Torin's plans for how their marriage will inspire change in the Empire. Their souls are still linked together, so that when Allura feels a flutter of warmth in her chest at Torin's words or his smile, Shiro feels it too; when Torin lays a hand on her arm, Shiro feels the affection blossom in her heart - but it's not for him, it's for Torin, the charming Prince - the man with all the answers - the man who will marry her, and make her dreams of peace and prosperity come true.

Today is one of those days when Torin is extra-flirty and affectionate, and Shiro can never figure out if he does it on purpose. It feels churlish and egotistical to suspect him of exaggerating his attentions; surely the man is just being genuine, and Shiro's just being petty, and he should take himself elsewhere. So he leaves Torin in the breakroom with Allura, talking over their plans for the upcoming wedding and how it will intersect with plans for treaty signings and alliances. They're discussing when to make the formal announcement of their engagement, because it will instantly change the geopolitics of the entire universe, and Shiro just doesn't need to hear this. In a few weeks, it will all be official, and there'll be no turning back. Allura will be engaged to Torin - formally, publicly - and he will have to accept that their souls are entwined together but not their fates.

He gets up and leaves, and he feels the ripple of some undefinable emotion from Allura, before she pushes it down and turns her attention back to Torin.

 

When he comes back to the breakroom a few hours later, they're still there. He's been training in the gym and now he's hungry, and the kitchen is past the breakroom, so he walks down the corridor and glances through the door. They're still at it. They're still sat next to each other, and Torin has his arm along the back of the sofa, around Allura's shoulders but not quite touching, and Allura looks relaxed and happy. Data tabs litter the table, and screens hover in the air around them, scrolling through figures and plans and to-do lists.

Shiro doesn't go into the room. He doesn't want to play third-wheel to whatever charm offensive Torin has going on in there. He shoves his hands into his pockets and mooches down to the kitchen instead. Allura can probably feel him, but she's probably too wrapped up in Torin's winning smile to notice.

He sits in the kitchen and eats some food goo, because it's quick and easy, and he tries not to sulk. He shouldn't resent Allura her happiness - if anyone's earned a happy ending, it's her. But there's a selfish part of him, buried deep, that wished they might find a happy ending _together_. He wanted to be the one to make her smile; to fill her heart with warmth and peace. Instead he's stuck on the side-lines, watching her fall for someone else - someone better than him. A prince. A leader. The man who can end the war. Of course Allura is falling for him. It's inevitable.

He reaches out for Allura's emotions, in the privacy of his own mind. It's selfish, and self-destructive, because he's not going to like what he finds; but he does it anyway. Maybe if he feels the precise moment when she falls in love with Torin, he can finally convince his helpless heart to get over her for good.

He feels out along the tether between them. It's like a sixth sense: he always knows where she is, and he can feel her emotions like an echo of his own. It works as long as they're physically close together, and the extent of it seems to fluctuate; when they actively reach out to each other, the link stretches over great distances. When one of them holds back, the connection is harder to establish, and the feelings are dulled and blurred.

Right now, Allura isn't focused on him - she's focusing on Torin, and what he has to say. These days she makes more of an effort to hold back her emotions, so that Shiro doesn't feel them all the time, but there's only so much she can do to shield him from the reality of her growing affections. And because she's distracted, it's easier for Shiro to ease open the connection and figure out what she's feeling right now.

Her emotions emerge like shapes out of the mist; like great swirling forms, felt rather than seen, coiling over each other. She's happy and relaxed, and that feels like golden sunshine. Torin makes her feel warm and safe - an emotion that flickers like fire even as it fills Shiro's heart with ice. He scowls at his own weakness, but now that the link is strong he can't block out Allura's feelings anymore, so he's powerless to prevent the onslaught. He knows she likes Torin - enough to agree to marry him - and she knows she enjoys Torin's company and his easy charm. It's all there, the sensations spiralling around each other, wrapped up like ribbons twisted together. She likes him and she's happy, and she's going to keep being happy with him because they're going to get married, and Shiro is a fool because this definitely isn't helping at all, in the slightest.

But there's something else beneath the dancing swirl of light and emotion that makes Shiro pause. Allura's happy, yes - it bubbles on the surface of her thoughts, bright and unmistakable. But underneath there's something else - something grey and shadowy and vague. Shiro feels out along the tether to try and make it out, and as Allura's happiness momentarily dips, he sees the truth of it.

The joy and peace and contentment - those are only on the surface. Underneath that - deep down - she's empty. There's nothing there. She feels nothing. Superficial emotions swirl and dance around her, but at her core - in her heart - there's just a void. It's grey and still and quiet - too quiet - eerily silent and empty in a way that crushes Shiro's soul like a vice. She shouldn't feel like that. It's all wrong.

Then Allura's mood changes, and something bright and sparkling flashes across the surface of her mind - as if she's laughing, or smiling - and Shiro draws back. He's intruding. This is private, and it's none of his business, and he's abusing the soul link to pry into Allura's feelings. He shakes his head and dumps his plate in the sink, and goes to his office to look at paperwork.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe everyone has an empty void deep down in their emotional consciousness, and he's being melodramatic about the whole thing. Allura's happy - on the surface at least - so he should be happy too. It's not his place to monitor her innermost feelings and then meddle in her life because he thinks she's not really as cheerful as she pretends to be. He can't do that to her. It's invasive and disrespectful and wrong, and he knows he can't say anything to her, it's just that… somewhere deep down he longs to take her by the shoulders and shake her, gently but firmly, and ask her if she really wants to do this - if she really wants Torin and this marriage and this alliance - or if she's just scared and alone.

He sits at his desk and pulls out his paperwork and forces himself to sit there and read reports and memos. It doesn't work. The echo of Allura's feelings replays in his head, over and over, and he can't shake the sense of her loneliness. It's not right, but there's nothing he can do about it. She's with Torin, now. She's made her choice, and he has no right to interfere.

He sighs, and throws the data tab down on the desk, and rubs his hands over his face. Clearly, no paperwork is getting done tonight. Instead, he gets up and goes to Black's hangar, and takes the Lion out on a late night patrol. Out here under the stars, the soul link fades, and Allura's emotions are just a dim shape in the distance. This is better. Out here, he can forget - at least for a little while. Black purrs under his hands, full of sympathy, and he takes her out on wide sweeps and loops - past asteroids and broken moonlets, out into the empty reaches of space, swinging out and back to the Castle, and out and back again, until his head clears and he feels calm enough to go back inside.

 

It's past midnight by the time he gets back to the Castle. He leaves Black in her hangar and heads back to the kitchen, partly to grab a late-night snack and some water, and partly to wash up his dishes from earlier that he left in the sink, because Hunk will glare at him if he doesn't. Which means he has to walk past the breakroom again. He can tell Allura's still there, but with any luck he can just stroll past unnoticed and go to bed without any further drama. Allura's feelings are quiet right now, anyway, which means she's probably deep in some work and doesn't want to be disturbed.

But when he walks past the breakroom, he stops.

Torin is nowhere to be seen. But Allura is still sat on the sofa, slumped over and breathing gently. Tabs and screens and pens lie strewn around her, and an empty mug sits on the table in front of her. She's fast asleep. Shiro has no idea how long she's been there, or if Torin is coming back at any point, but she doesn't look comfortable. Her neck is tilted at a funny angle and her knees are pressed against the coffee table. She's going to be sore when she wakes up.

Shiro watches her for a moment, and tries to commit her to memory: the curl of her hair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way the pink marks on her cheeks stand out so beautifully against the darkness of her skin. She'll be gone soon - Queen of the Altean-Galra Alliance, Prince Torin's wife, a new leader and ruler - and Shiro will have nothing but memories of her.

He chews his lip. Clearly, Torin has departed for the evening. He can't leave Allura sleeping in the breakroom like this. He sighs, and crosses to the sofa. He'll have to take Hunk's lecture about doing the dishes, because this is more important.

He tidies up the tabs and pens as best he can, and dismisses all the screens. Then he slides his arm under Allura's shoulders and picks her up gently, cradling her against his chest with one arm and supporting her legs with the other. She sleeps on, snoring quietly, barely stirring. She must be exhausted. Shiro has no idea what she was doing in here with Torin, but whatever she was working on, she pushed herself too hard. That much is clear. He shakes his head, and carries her out of the breakroom and down the corridor towards her room.

She stirs as they get into the elevator.

"Takashi?" she murmurs.

His heart stops. Lately, she doesn't call him by his first name very often. Back when she first brought him back to life, and they first realised their souls were connected, he said she could call him _'Takashi'_ because it felt odd to be _'Shiro'_ to someone who could feel every emotion that flitted through his heart. But then Torin showed up, and they started arguing, and now Allura is back to addressing him as _'Shiro'_ , all formal and proper. So _'Takashi'_ is a surprise.

He looks down at Allura's face, where she lies half-asleep against his chest. Her eyes are still closed. She called him Takashi but she didn't look at him, which means she woke up with his name on her mind. His _first_ name.

"Yeah, it's me, Princess," he says softly. "You fell asleep on the sofa."

She makes a little humming sound, and a tiny smile pulls at her lips, and it sets Shiro's heart alight. He shouldn't read into this. Of course she knew it was him without having to open her eyes and look - their quintessence is connected, so she can feel his presence just like he feels hers. But she looks so happy about being in his arms, and he senses a warm wave of contentment that spreads out of her. She likes this. For all their fights and arguments, when it comes right down to it, she likes the feeling of him carrying her to bed.

They get to her room, and he opens the door and carries Allura inside. Her bedroom is a mess, like usual, and Shiro smiles fondly at the chaos. He lays Allura down gently on the bed, and pulls her slippers off. He's not about to try changing her into her nightclothes, but he can at least take her shoes off and tuck her under the covers. She barely stirs as he works, and he thinks she won't even remember this in the morning. He smooths the hair away from her face and gets up to leave.

She reaches for his hand as he stands up.

"Takashi," she whispers. Her eyes flutter open, and Shiro stops by the bedside, unsure of what to do next. He's in her bedroom at 1am, putting her to bed, and he's aware that he's massively overstepped some boundaries in the process. But she hooks her fingers over his, and he crouches down by the edge of the bed so that he can meet her gaze.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I miss you," she says, her voice heartbreakingly soft and sleepy.

"I didn't go anywhere," he says, even though that's not entirely true. He pulled away from her. They both know it.

"We keep fighting," Allura murmurs. "I don't like it."

"I don't like it either," Shiro says. He shifts is grip on her hand, so that he can thread their fingers together; a stolen closeness that he has no claim to. But Allura smiles as if she wants this more than anything.

"I miss you," she says again. "I miss when we didn't fight."

"I know," he says. He strokes her hair gently, and her eyes flutter closed. She's still half-asleep - he can tell by the way her quintessence blurs around the edges, and the way her feelings are slow and heavy. He sends a trickle of energy down the tether between them, and the connection grows stronger, so that he can sense her emotions right now. They're jumbled and sleepy, but he can still make sense of them: sorrow and regret, but contentment too. Whatever else may pass between them - whatever disagreements they have - she still feels safe around him. That much hasn't changed.

He pushes further, because he needs to know if she still feels empty inside. The swirling shapes of her feelings shift and part, and Shiro senses what lies beneath them: not emptiness, but sadness. Loneliness. Heartache. He's here and she's sad, and it's all jumbled up inside her in a messy ball, and it brings tears to Shiro's eyes. Why does she feel like this? Why is she still so lonely, deep down in the depths of her heart?

"Why are you marrying Torin?" he asks. It's a stupid question - one that will start a fight and make Allura hate him. But he has to ask. He has to know.

"I have to," Allura whispers. She's not angry; he senses nothing but melancholy in her thoughts. She's resigned to it.

"You don't have to," Shiro says. "Not if you don't want to."

"You don't want me to marry him?" Allura asks. She asked him this before - not in so many words, but in a roundabout way. She laid out the plan in front of him and asked him for his thoughts, and he told her he was fine with it because he didn't want to make her choices for her. But now… however foolish it might be, he has to tell her the truth.

"Of course I don't want you to marry him," he says, his hand still running gently through her hair. "I want you to be mine."

Allura's eyes close, and her face crumples up as she starts to cry. Shiro has no idea what he said wrong. But the sadness barrels out of her, wave after wave of it, as if she is too tired and heartsick to hold it back any longer.

"Why would you want me?" she whispers through her tears. "I have nothing. I'm just broken."

"No, don't say that," he whispers. He squeezes her hand; strokes her cheek. "You're beautiful. You're strong. You're amazing."

"Stay with me," she says, and Shiro relents. It's a bad idea, because it blurs so many lines that should not be blurred, but he can't walk out of the room and leave her crying alone in her bed. He stands up and toes off his boots, and climbs into the bed next to her. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest and cries, and he holds onto her and strokes her back and tells her that it's okay, he's here, he'll always be here.

It's a lie, and they both know it. He can't be here forever, because sooner rather than later, it will be Torin lying beside her in the bed and not Shiro. Allura made her choice, and Shiro has to stand aside and accept it. But tonight, her emotions are a storm that she cannot battle alone. Shiro holds her as she cries; he holds her until the tears exhaust her, and she drops off to sleep. Then he lies there and strokes her hair and watches her sleeping face, and tries to trace the emotions that flit through her sleeping mind.

He can't stay here. He's fairly certain she won't remember this in the morning - it will be nothing but a sleepy blur - and so if she wakes up and finds him in her bed, it's going to start arguments. If Torin finds out, it will start even _more_ arguments. The last thing any of them need is drama. So Shiro waits until Allura's breathing evens out and she's truly, deeply asleep, and then he rises quietly from the bed, grabs his shoes, and lets himself out.

The sleeping Castle hums gently around him as he makes his way back down the hallway to his own room. These days, it never truly rests - there's always someone on night watch on the bridge, and someone on duty patrolling the corridors or watching the security feeds. But the night cycle still feels lonely. It still feels like the Castle is empty and still.

Shiro gets back to his quarters and throws his boots down in the corner. He gets changed and washes his face and lies down on his bed, flat on his back, and stares at the ceiling.

He's not going to cry over this. It's pointless. He has a job to do and a war to win, and Allura needs him to stay focused and lead Voltron and support her in the Coalition. So he's not going to lie in his room and cry over what-ifs and might-have-beens, because that doesn't matter. His happiness doesn't matter - not in the grand scheme of things.

But tears come anyway, before he can hold them back. He's glad that Allura is fast asleep right now, so that she can't feel the raging storm of emotions that rises up to drown him. He's in love with her and she's not in love with him, and she's going to marry someone else even though she doesn't want to, but it's what's best for the whole universe so how can Shiro protest? How can he ask her not to? And whenever he tries to tell her he disagrees, it just causes arguments that tear his heart in two. He can't win. Allura is self-destructing before his eyes, and every effort he makes to reach her just backfires. And she's sad and lonely, deep down inside where no one else can see, but Shiro sees it and it breaks his heart. But he doesn't know how to make it right. She won't let him get close enough.

It's a mess. And he doesn't know how to fix it. And if he were more sensible, he'd cut his loses and accept that Allura is not meant to be his, and move on and get over it. But he can't. Their souls are bound together, for better or worse, and so he has to keep trying. He has to dry his eyes and get up and try again, day after day; he has to be there for her and remind her that she doesn't have to be alone. He has to keep throwing himself against the rocks, over and over, until he can reach her. Until he can make her see that she deserves to be loved and she deserves to be happy. That is his fate - it is the reason their souls were bound together. And so he'll keep trying. However long it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just _clenches fist_ love angst way too much you guys. also i'm not super-happy with the ending of this but it's past midnight so just take it


	4. spare the dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set at the end of the second arc of fulcrumverse - the culmination of all the Torin drama, Allura turning him down because she can't bring herself to go through with the marriage etc. and then a climactic battle against the Galra forces. During this battle, Allura uses all her quintessence to power up the Castle so that they can escape - essentially giving all her life force to keep Voltron and their allies on the Castle alive, and to secure their escape. So hey! Have a fic about that happening!
> 
> this particular ficlet got too long for tumblr, so it's an AO3 exclusive

Allura has always given everything she has to the cause. It's something Shiro admires about her - but at the same time, it terrifies him. He tells himself often that she knows when to draw the line, and if she doesn't, he'll be there to stop her. But when it happens, he's not by her side to prevent it.

She summons the Paladins back to the Castle of Lions, when it becomes clear the battle won't turn in their favour. Their window to withdraw is only brief; Prince Torin's change of heart, and his decision to attack the Emperor's forces with his own fleet, will buy them a few moments to flee. But the Castle is dead in the void. There's no power for basic systems, much less a wormhole.

"Princess, what are you planning?" Shiro asks over the comms. He keeps one eye on the Lions as they circle around the fleet of rebel craft and civilian vessels that carry the last surviving Alteans in their endless quest for a new, safe home. Voltron promised them hope and security; a fresh start, out of the shadows. And now they're run ragged, fleeing in terror. He shakes his head briefly and circles Black around to watch the rear.

Allura's voice comes back to him over the comms, already tired and weak from the strain of battle.

"I can power up the ship," she says, her voice clipped and matter-of-fact. "The crystal is damaged, but I can make a wormhole powerful enough to carry us to safety."

"How?" Shiro asks. They're not physically close enough for him to sense her quintessence, but he catches the edge in her voice; the note of fear. Her face appears on the HUD, her eyes serious and heavy with unspoken feelings.

"The alchemy I learned in Oriande," she says simply. "I know enough to use my own energy to make up for what has been drained from the crystal. It will suffice to secure our escape."

"Allura, no--" Shiro begins, but she shakes her head.

"There's no time. Protect the fleet. Get everyone through the wormhole, then come aboard the Castle."

She states it so calmly, but Shiro can tell what she's really saying. She will drain her own life force to keep the wormhole open long enough to let the fleet pass through, and the effort will likely kill her. He can tell. She's the expert alchemist - he's just a novice - but he can still tell the scale of what she's about to attempt. It would be recklessly dangerous even with a fully charged crystal powering the bridge; without one, it's suicide.

"Allura, you can't…" he says. Helplessly. Hopelessly. Her mind is already made up.

"I'm sorry, Takashi," she says, and she so rarely uses his first name that it hits him hard, like a punch to the centre of the chest. She's serious. This is goodbye. But there's no time for it - no time for soft words or farewells. The comm feed cuts out, and he's alone in Black, mind reeling, heart sinking like a stone.

He's felt this way before. Back when they fought Zarkon and the Castle took a direct hit, and he thought he lost her forever… but that was fast, it was sudden, there was no time to draw it out. This is different. It's _worse_. He knows she's there, on the bridge; he can picture her in his mind's eye, standing proud and determined at the helm, ready to give her life for the cause. And he's not _there_ \- he's not beside her, to hold her or help her. He's out here, with a job to do, and all he wants is to be near her and maybe talk her out of this.

The Castle hums ahead of him, and the lights flicker as it powers up. Shiro flinches in his seat. How much quintessence did Allura just expend to bring the Castle back to life? Too much, surely. A second later, a roundel appears in the sky - miles wide, shimmering blue, the surface of the wormhole rippling with power.

"Fleet, move out!" Shiro barks into the comms. The ships jump into action, speeding towards the wormhole, and Shiro follows in Black. She senses his urgency and panic, and roars beneath him, and her metal bulk shivers and trembles as she accelerates. The ships disappear into the teludav portal - agonisingly slowly, one at a time, as if they are moving through treacle. Shiro knows he's imagining their sluggishness - rationally, he knows they're moving as fast as they can to escape the battle raging behind them. Torin's ships still harry the Galra fighters, covering their retreat, and the lurid light of explosions and blaster fire flickers in the air. No one is going slow, but it feels like it. Every millisecond that the wormhole remains open, Allura's life force drains away.

Finally, the fleet passes through, and the last stragglers disappear into the wormhole's surface. The Castle of Lions follows in the rear, flanked by the Lions themselves. The glowing roundel flickers; ripples run along the runes and symbols. Allura's power is waning fast.

The comm link crackles on Shiro's dash, and Allura's face appears.

"Are you safe?" she breathes. "Shiro - come through - come -"

"I'm coming, Princess," he says. "We're almost there, hang on, I'm coming."

Their eyes meet, and a storm of unspoken words pass between them, and then Allura grimaces with the strain of keeping the wormhole open for them.

It's killing her. And Shiro's not there.

He glances around and registers the position of the other Lions. Green and Blue disappear into the wormhole; Yellow follows, with Red in the rear. The Castle must go last, but Shiro can't bear to leave Allura behind like that. Not again. Not like this.

He reaches out to Black, and senses her great power beneath his hands. She rumbles sympathetically as his mind touches hers, because she knows his pain and fear and heartache without him ever having to find words for it.

"I need your wings," he whispers. "I have to get to her."

She purrs her understanding, and her power rises up to engulf him. It is the living, raw power of the cosmos - the spiritual knowledge of the nature of time and space. Distance is nothing to the Black Lion - or to her Paladin. Teleporting is risky and dangerous, but he can't leave Allura like this. With Black's help, he can get to the bridge of the Castle; Black can continue through the wormhole on her own, escorting the castle-ship and following the other Lions. Allura needs him right now.

"Allura," he says, "I'm coming to you."

He offers no explanation for it, and he gets no reply. On the comms, Allura has her eyes closed. The marks on her cheek glow white, but the light flickers and dims as her energy drains away. Shiro grips Black's controls and concentrates - focuses all his might and willpower on where he needs to be - and his tether to Allura thrums as he reaches out for her with his mind and soul. Black's quintessence rushes through him, filling him, shaking him to his bones; and as Black races towards the wormhole Shiro squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to move through space in another direction.

The first time he did this was by accident - and it was also to get to Allura, during a difficult battle he feared she would lose. Since then, he's tried to perfect it, but it still feels like the Black Lion is flinging him out into space and he has to just hope that he'll land in the right spot. He holds his body tense and tight, and focuses on Allura - on the spot on the bridge where he knows she's standing - on the invisible link between them that tugs him in her direction.

The universe blurs around him; shifts, moves, blinks into blackness and rushing colours. For an instant, he's cold and alone and cut loose. Then he blinks back; colour and noise comes back to him in a rush, and he tumbles to the ground and rolls upright.

He's on the bridge, surrounded by panicked flight crew. Voices rise above the blaring of alarms and the creak of the ship under strain, and someone barks the order to proceed through the wormhole. The Lions must be through. The coast is clear. And Allura--

Shiro springs to his feet as he catches sight of her at the command station. This close, he picks up on her quintessence - what little there is left of it. Her energy is so weak, like a candle flame stuttering out. The castle-ship moves out; the nose breaches the surface of the wormhole, and they leave normal space behind them. They're free, safe, out of danger, hurtling through subspace towards some distant haven where Zarkon cannot pursue them.

But Allura is spent. The exertion is too much for her. Shiro is on his feet before he knows what's happening; he rushes across the bridge, heedless of the noise around him. His body doesn't seem to move fast enough. It feels like the world has slowed down so that he can see everything happening in painful slow motion. Allura's hands slip from the controls and she collapses onto the podium, limp and slumped over. The last ghost of her energy winks inside her, so small and weak, and Shiro feels the emotion that goes with it - tiredness, bone-deep weariness, exhaustion so heavy it threatens to bury her alive.

He reaches the podium at last, after an age, and drops to his knees beside Allura's still form. He rolls her over and pulls her into his arms, and cradles her against his chest. Her breathing is weak; her quintessence is almost gone. Shiro pulls his helmet off and casts it aside so that he can look into her eyes, but they flutter closed and her head lolls to the side.

"Allura?" he whispers. He tugs the glove from his hand with his teeth, so that he can lay his left palm against her cheek - skin to skin, his fingers caressing her jaw, willing her to feel it - to hear him - to open her eyes and meet his gaze. He runs his hand through her hair and over her jaw; he lifts her closer to him, pulling her against his chest, hopeless and desperate.

"Come on, Allura," he begs. "Please. Don't do this to me, sweetheart. Please."

She's dying. Her energy ebbs away as the flame of her life force flickers out, and Shiro holds her and pleads with her to come back to him. He presses his forehead to hers as tears spill from his eyes. People gather around him, but he ignores them. Nothing matters but Allura in his arms, clinging to life by a thread.

She's dying, and it terrifies him. He has no idea how to save her, and if she dies, he has no idea how to go on without her. There are so many things he hoped to say to her - so many feelings he hoped to share - and now there's no time, she's drifting away, and he's out of time and chances, and he should have said something before but he didn't, and now it's too late…

He clings to her and reaches out, into the strange astral world where she found his spirit. That plane is always there, lurking beyond the corporeal realm - a place of souls and shadows - and he's been there before, with the Black Lion. Allura found him there and brought him back, even though neither of them remember much of the details of what happened there. But he can get there. And right now, it's the only way he can think of to reach out to Allura's soul.

He closes his eyes and holds onto the thread of Allura's energy, and the tether that binds them together, and wills his awareness out of his body and into that astral plane. Black rumbles, somewhere on the edge of consciousness, and he senses the touch of her energy again as she helps him leave the physical realm and ascend to that higher state. The bridge drops away; the lights fade, the voices dim, the shaking of the Castle stills.

Shiro blinks, and looks around. He's on the astral plane, standing under endless stars, and when he glances down at his own body, he's not surprised to see that he's made of light and shade. This is the world of souls and spirits. If there's any chance to hold onto Allura - even if it's just to say goodbye - it's here. He looks up.

She stands in front of him, a ghostly figure, glittering beneath the stars. Even here, she's fading - her form is translucent, and she looks like she might blow away at any moment.

"Shiro?" she whispers, her voice weak.

He crosses over to her, driven by the need to be close to her for whatever time they have left, and cups her face in both hands.

"Allura," he says, and there's pleading in his voice. "You have to come back. Please. Don't give up."

Tears shimmer in her eyes and spill down her cheeks, and her expression is clouded with grief. She doesn't move - not even to hold onto Shiro where he stands in front of her. She just looks up at him through the mask of her pain.

"I'm so tired," she murmurs. "I'm tired. I just want to rest."

"You will, I promise," Shiro says. His voice breaks, and tears stream down his cheeks. He presses his forehead to Allura's and holds her close, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "There'll be time to rest. I'll make sure of it. But you gotta come back with me, Allura. You have to. Please."

"But I'm so tired," she sobs. "I can't. It hurts too much. I just want it to end."

"No, no, no," Shiro breathes. "Don't say that. We can do this. We can still win, we can end this war together. Come back with me, please."

"Why can't I just rest?" she wails. "I'm so tired. No one needs me anymore."

"I need you," he says. His heart aches at her words, and he'll say anything - spill any secret truth - if it will make her change her mind. "I love you. I can't do this without you."

She lets out a huge, heaving sob that shakes her whole body. And finally, she wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his shoulder and cries. Her body trembles as the tears break loose and spill out of her, and Shiro runs his hand into her hair and pulls her close.

"I'm so sorry," he breathes. "I know you're tired. I know you're hurting. But you're not alone. Please don't give up just yet. I can't live without you."

He holds onto her as she cries, as close as he can, until there is no space between them at all. Here, in this realm of souls, the tether between them is stronger than ever. He senses her despair, and the heartbreak that threatens to consume her. Loneliness pours out of her in waves, mixed with fear and regret and longing, and it's too much all at once. Shiro sends his own feelings back to her - all the love and affection he has kept buried deep inside - he opens his heart to her completely and lets her see it and feel it. He lets her feel the warmth of his compassion; the bright light of his admiration for her. He gives her the darkness of his fear, too: the fear of losing her, of being alone, of having to carry on without her.

She lifts her head to look at him, her face streaked with tears. He still feels the pain that echoes through her, but it's not as dark and hopeless as it was before.

"I don't want to be alone," she whispers, and the sadness in her voice is like a spear through Shiro's heart. He wipes the tears from her cheek.

"You won't be alone," he promises. "I'll never leave you."

Her mouth turns up slightly with the ghost of a smile, and Shiro closes the distance and kisses her gently on the lips. She surrenders to him without hesitation - as if she has waited centuries just for this. He meant to keep the kiss brief, but Allura clings to him so fiercely he can't bring himself to pull away, and so instead he lets the kiss deepen; he pours every ounce of affection he feels for her into this one moment of connection. And suddenly - he knows what to do. He knows how to bring her back.

He draws her close to him and kisses her, and lets his quintessence flood through her. He opens up the link between them and holds nothing back. His life force rushes down the tether between their souls, crackling like sparks, and he finds the seed of her energy buried deep within her. It's weak and dim, because she gave so much of herself to make the wormhole; but when his energy meets hers, the spark ignites into a flame. It pulses and grows, and Shiro feeds it with everything he can: his love and affection, his admiration and respect, the joy Allura brings him and the peace he finds when they're together. He throws it onto the fire like kindling - like fuel for the flame of her life force. He senses her surprise, and then her own joy and warmth surges back to him. Her fingers curl into his hair and he tastes her tongue against his as she kisses him deeply and fiercely, her soul clinging to him like he's her anchor to the mortal world.

Her life force grows stronger by the second as he uses his own quintessence to pull her back from the brink of death. She pulls back from the kiss and stares at him, their foreheads pressed together, breathing heavily. Her ghostly form becomes more solid, and Shiro feels the strength return to her. It ought to drain him, because he gave his life force to revive her - but in this strange, liminal space, he understands that this is not about giving a finite resource. He shared with her the seed of hope, and the will to carry on; and like a candle igniting a fire, bringing her life does not deplete his own. Her quintessence returns, renewed by their connection, and as it grows stronger it leaks back down the bond between them.

When she pulled him out of this space, their energies mixed together - it's what created the soul tether between them in the first place. But this is something different - something deeper and far more profound. He is not simply finding her soul - he's sharing his own energy with hers, so that her spirit can be revived and restored. They have never been closer than they are at this moment, and it pains him to realise that they won't remember much of this. It happened last time, and it will happen this time, too. Once they leave this space, they'll forget most of what transpired here.

Already, the spirit world fades around them as Allura's energy returns. Shiro holds her for as long as he can, but the sensation of dreamy calm washes over him as the astral realm slips away from his grasp. The memory of the last few minutes dissipates like smoke, and he clings to whatever scraps he can: Allura's tear-stained face, the way he saved her, the words _'I love you'_ falling from his lips, the kiss… he clutches at the scraps and wills them to stay with him, even as the astral plane flickers out and the real world comes rushing back in. Sights and sounds flood his senses, but he squeezes his eyes shut and keeps tight hold of those scraps: _'I love you'_ and Allura crying and then that kiss… he must have dreamed it… surely it was just a strange fever dream? Surely.

He opens his eyes.

He's still on the bridge, Allura cradled in his arms, a crowd of the Castle's crew gathered around them both. Coran's voice rises above the din, laced with concern and panic, and alarms still blare in the background somewhere but no one seems to be paying them much attention.

Shiro looks down at Allura's face. The marks on her cheeks glow faintly white, but there's light coming from somewhere else as well - his own face, somehow? That can't be right. But it doesn't matter. He'll figure that out later. He runs his hand over Allura's hair and her cheek - and she feels warmer, now, and her skin is less washed out.

"Allura?" he murmurs.

Her eyelids flutter, and then her eyes drift open and she blinks up at him.

"Takashi?" she breathes, her voice weak.

He breaks into a grin of relief. He still has some strange, jumbled memories of… the astral plane? A kiss under the stars? But that's not important right now. Allura is alive and smiling up at him, still drained and fragile but growing stronger, and nothing else matters.

"Hey, Princess," he says. He strokes her hair again, and tears shimmer in her eyes, and she rests her hand on his forearm and doesn't look away from him - not even for a second. Emotions pour out of her: sorrow and relief and pain, and the tentative first steps of hope, reborn anew out of heartbreak.

A hand lands on Shiro's shoulder, and he tears his eyes away from Allura long enough to glance up and see Coran standing over him, also in tears, a grateful smile warming his face.

"Thank you," he says. "You brought her back."

"I did?" Shiro asks. "How?" He can't quite remember. All he remembers is desperately wanting Allura to live, and then he blinked into the astral plane and… kissed her? Maybe? And now here they are.

"I'm not sure," Coran says wryly. "But you might want to take a look at your face."

Shiro frowns at him, perplexed. He looks back at Allura, and she smiles at him.

"You're glowing," she murmurs.

"Not as much as you," he says with a grin. She's still too weak to summon much of a smile, but he senses her happiness anyway. He presses a kiss to her forehead, not caring that everyone's still watching. Let them see. It doesn't matter, just so long as Allura's alive.

"You scared me," he says softly, so that only she can hear. "I thought I lost you."

She shakes her head, and leans into him, and he senses her need for closeness. There'll be time for talking later. Right now, she just wants to be held, and Shiro never wants to let go of her.

"No, really, you're glowing," Coran says, from somewhere behind him.

Shiro glances up, still confused about what Coran might be getting at. The royal adviser stands over him, and helpfully holds out Shiro's helmet so that he can see his reflection in his visor. Shiro catches sight of himself, and blinks in shock.

The mark across his nose is glowing a bright, unmistakeable white.

"Looks like Allura was right about you," Coran observes. "Seems you're a bit Altean after all."

"I told you," Allura murmurs, from down where her head is nestled against his chest, and Shiro has to smile. Even now, utterly drained and just come back from the dead - she still has the energy to summon up an _'I told you so'_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at some point i'll let them kiss and _actually_ remember it...


End file.
